


forever can never be long enough

by plinys



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “Marriage is a beautiful union, a happy moment, one which should ideally take place in a church not in a..."“A Taco Bell,” Crowley supplies.[Or: Crowley and Aziraphale at a Taco Bell, after the end of the world.]





	forever can never be long enough

**Author's Note:**

> this is not what i planned for my first fic in this fandom to be, but here we are. for grace and shruti who both asked for this, somehow, sorta.

He’s not exactly certain why they’re here.

No, that’s not true.

Somewhere over the din of too loud music, half naked humans shouting over each other, and a cashier shouting out order numbers.  Aziraphale knows the truth of why he’s here. Even if he would rather not admit it. 

He watches with mild amusement as a woman in a white dress that barely reaches her thighs and a sash that proclaims  _ bride to be _ holds a frozen drink in her hand, no doubt with an alcohol content much higher than what she can currently manage, asking the whole restaurant to make a toast in her honor.

And it’s as he raises his own drink in reply to the toast, iced and alcoholic as well, that he speaks, “I need to stop letting you pick the locations of our lunch dates.”

His dining companion - if they could really consider where they were  _ dining _ \- raises his own drink to complete to toast clinking their glasses together. There’s a smile on Crowley’s face, so at least  _ someone  _ is getting some enjoyment out of this situation.

“You could have said no,” he points out in reply. 

“Could I have,” Aziraphale replies, a hint of exasperated skepticism in his voice, “Could I  _ really _ ?”

They were playing a game with each other at this point. He knew that, in theory, he could refuse to play at any time. But this was still brand new for them, going on lunch dates and actually calling them for what they were. Millenniums of time between them and somehow the concept of  _ dating  _ had managed to make him nervous. Like they were just as human as the ones surrounding them. 

So they had started this.

Each of them picking places that they know the other would hate, waiting for the other to refuse, both of them too stubborn to a fault to stop playing the game and just pick a place that they both actually like.

Hence being here.

In America, Las Vegas specifically, at a Taco Bell of all places.

Crowley drinking down that iced and caffeinated monstrosity like he actually enjoys it. He might. Aziraphale wouldn’t be surprise, Crowley always did have an interesting taste when it came to these sorts of things. 

Aziraphale sighs, knowing that his question will go unanswered, and instead turns back to the young couple. Drunk and about to make a decision that will impact the rest of their lives. “They’re going to regret this.” 

“Probably,” Crowley agrees. “Nobody ever really manages to stay happily married.” 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

“Marriage is a beautiful union, a happy moment, one which should ideally take place in a church not in a,” he waves his hand around the establishment, a general tone of disapproval evident. 

“A Taco Bell,” Crowley supplies. 

“Exactly.” 

Over the millennia Aziraphale has witnessed plenty of weddings, though none of them had been quite like this one, messy and impulsive and being streamed on social media with a cat filter by the couple’s equally drunk friends. As much as he wants to disapprove of the location choice he has to admit that the couple looks happy, leaning against each other, bright smiles on their faces, in  _ love _ . 

And heavens if that isn’t a feeling that Aziraphale can understand… 

“You know,” Crowley says, “There’s a place just like that down the street, you can even have Elvis complete the union.” 

“Oh stop it,” Aziraphale shoots him a disapproving look. 

He’s not sure what he expects Crowley to say, but it’s certainly not the next words that come out of his mouth - “Marry me?”

Blurting out, “What,” truly does seem like the only reasonable response given the circumstances. 

“Consider,” Crowley says, drawing the word out, like it’s a temptation. 

Of course, that’s  _ exactly  _ what this all is.

A temptation.

One that before he might have been more inclined to refuse without even giving it a second thought. But that now has him hesitating. This thing between them, it’s more than just gaming each other into lunch dates, it’s late nights and kisses in the bookshop, and everything that he told himself he couldn’t have for the longest time and something thrums inside of him is nervousness.

Crowley continues, “A lifetime supply of tacos.” 

Ah,  _ of course _ . 

A joke.

He hadn’t really meant… 

Aziraphale tries not to let his disappointment at realizing what the offer truly was show, and instead manages a small smile at the  _ joke _ , and replies.  “Need I remind you that we don’t technically need to eat.” 

Crowley doesn’t say anything at that just arches his eyebrows at the taco in Aziraphale’s hand. The one that he had, in fact, been eating moments before. He pointedly sets it back down on the tray and looks back up at Crowley, “They’re not even good tacos.” 

They both know that much is true. After all, Crowley invented Taco Bell, the mistake of a franchise that it is, to have food that never tastes just right and an aesthetic that generally hurts the eyes. 

“And anyways our lives are a long time,” Aziraphale reminds him. “I have a feeling the humans that offered a  _ lifetime supply of tacos _ didn’t factor in immortality.”

“That’s their fault, not ours,” Crowley counters. 

“Crowley-”

“Until death do us part.” 

There’s something about the way he says it. 

About the idea of  _ death _ .

Their own.

Something that had nearly caught up with them not too long ago. 

They have always been Aziraphale and Crowley. Crowley and Aziraphale. That the idea of one existing without the other. The idea of  _ death  _ parting them. 

He hasn’t exactly asked…

Hasn’t found the right moment to talk about the time when Crowley did believe him to have died, and the horrible coping mechanisms that had come with all of it. He’d let it go. Excuses it as the end of the world jitters.

But now looking across the Taco Bell at a happy couple ready to tie their lives together until the end of their time, he can’t help but remember all the things that they still need to talk about.

Crowley must interpret his silence as something else. “Fuck it, just forget it.”

All these years, all these  _ lifetimes  _ together, and he still manages to somehow misunderstand Aziraphale. A demon that only ever seems dense when it comes to his own emotions. Though Aziraphale will admit he’s not the best at sorting out his own emotions either.

“It’s not about the tacos,” Aziraphale says. 

Finding the right words for both of them. 

Because they both know that this isn’t about the tacos, or where they are, or the pounding music that will linger in Aziraphale’s head for days.

Not really. 

It’s about so much more between them. 

It’s about  _ forever _ .

Spending the rest of forever.

Together.

The way they always have been.

But this time without having to hide it.

Of admitting the co-dependency between them that has always been there.

The  _ love _ .

When he looks into the eyes of demon across from him, he feels it, an understanding, of what has truly been there all along. What will remain here between them,  _ until death do us part _ , no matter where or when they are.

“Ask me again,” Aziraphale all but demands.

And so, Crowley does, “Marry me?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> come talk with me on twitter @plinys !!


End file.
